Mr Monk and the Anniversary
by Kameka
Summary: Just kind of what the title says... No spoilers at all if you watch the show.


Title: Mr. Monk and the Anniversary

Disclaimer: All standard disclaimers apply: any characters from the television show do not belong to me and I have made absolutely no money.

Notes: This (extremely) mini-story was actually written well over a year ago but I never got around to typing and posting it until now. I used to watch Monk religiously, but I stopped because of work, so it's been quite a while. This is unbeta'd but it has been spell/grammar checked and read through. Any mistakes are my own. My thanks to Aby and Sharon, both of whom did a quick read through to tell me what they thought.

Summary: Kind of what the title says…

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Adrian Monk was preoccupied as he – for once – did not notice his surroundings. Truth be told, he didn't need to: he knew exactly where he was going as he followed the same path he had a hundred other times. It took no time at all for him to reach his destination: a cool gray stone emblazoned with his wife's name. He blinked in the bright spring sunshine, his eyes watering slightly. Leaning forward, he balanced his small load in one hand, the other reaching out and hovering scant millimeters above the stone. His fingers traced the etched letters, careful not to touch. A brief, sad smile graced his face as an elderly man caught his attention and he gave a small nod of acknowledgement and shared commiseration.

"Hello, Trudy," he said softly as he pulled back. He laid a bouquet of flowers at the base of the stone; the bright colors rich against the grass. Balancing his clarinet, he opened the bright yellow box that he was carrying. "I brought you something," he explained needlessly. "I bet you thought I forgot, didn't you? I didn't – I never will," he assured her. Nimble fingers pulled a small base out of the box and set it on the gravestone before pulling out a stained glass butterfly. "I hope you like it," he whispered as he set it on the base. Another smile touched his lips as the colors caught and refracted the sunlight, showering the small area with rainbows.

"See? I told you I didn't forget. I remember when we found that store; it was our second date and you were entranced by all the sun-catchers. You smiled so wide and looked so beautiful as you spent hours watching the family make them. I promised myself then and there that I would give you at least one a year, just so I could see that smile again." His throat tightened, making speech impossible.

After a long moment, he cleared it and lifted his clarinet to his lips. The clear, sweet notes of the most important song he knew were soon floating on the afternoon breeze. Long after the last note trembled and died, he remained standing with his instrument at his lips as he stared down. The clarinet was dropped to his side suddenly, his fingers tightening on the gleaming base, and he crouched down.

"Are you dancing," he wondered, closing his eyes and imagining just that. Trudy would be wearing a soft yellow sundress and her beautiful blonde hair gleaming. She would raise her face to the sun and luxuriate in the warmth on her skin. Her lips would be drawn into a wide smile, her laughter ringing out much as his own clarinet had, although more musical by far.

"I miss you," he whispered, his free hand once again reaching out to hover above the cold stone.

An eternity later, he stood and reached out to lift the butterfly from its' base, putting both back in the cheerfully colored box. He'd wash and wrap everything properly when he got home.

"Happy Anniversary, Trudy," he whispered before readjusted the flowers so they were centered and then once again making his way down the path to go home.

He let himself into his apartment quietly and made his way to the table. He set one of his burdens down before putting the clarinet inside the open case and putting it away. Next he went to the closet and pulled a large box out from where it was hidden in the back. Opening it to reveal a multitude of boxes, each one a cheerful yellow, some faded slightly with age. Each one held a base similar to the one he had used earlier and a sun-catcher.

He emptied them one by one, setting the catchers on the tables placed in front of the windows. The subjects ranged greatly. Flowers, rainbows, butterflies, suns and stars, an impossibly delicate portrait. Each was handcrafted, made with the care that Trudy had been so enthralled with on that day trip long ago. Last but not least, he pulled the latest one out of its' box and set it in the last place.

Soon his minimalist apartment was full of colored lights, each sun-catcher refracting a multitude that danced on white walls and staid furniture. He watched them, fascinated by the sight. This is what his then-girlfriend had envisioned. The room was dancing with light, the jeweled tones bringing life to otherwise quiet surroundings. To use a phrase that Trudy would have, it was magical.

He would leave them up for the day before putting them all away again.

"Happy Anniversary, Trudy," he whispered again as he closed his eyes against the sight.

**The End**

Reviews are welcome! How'd I do on my first Monk fic?


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